The Phantom of the Opera- Snk Crossover
by Combustibility
Summary: 23 year old Petra Ral dances for the Paris Legion Opera House. She is promoted to lead soprano of the year's production, "Hannibal". She did not suddenly become a singer, for her tutor is the very ghost that terrorizes the opera house she works in. She finds herself in a situation that could mean her freedom or the lives of those she loves. Petrou. Rivetra.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**The Phantom of The Opera SnK**

**1911 Paris Opera House- Prologue**

"We are now beginning the opening bid at 5 franks. Lot 663. A poster of this house's production, 'Hannibal' by Chalumeau. As you can see it is in stunning condition."

The auctioneer looked around the room from behind the podium, searching for someone who would raise their sign to bid. Someone did, and he called out, "Thank you Madame. Do I see ten francs? 10?"  
Another person raised their sign. "Ten francs, thank you Monsieur."

The auctioneer looked around the motionless room. It seemed as though no one was going to bid any higher. "10 once…Selling twice… Thank you, Monsieur. The 'Hannibal' poster is sold to Auruo Bossard. May I have the next prop?"

A man strode out from the side of the room carrying a box. He set it down and opened it, revealing a board with three human skulls and a pistol tied to it.

"Ladies and gentleman. Lot 664, three human skulls and a wooden pistol from the 1831 production of 'Robert le Diable' by Meyerbeer.

"Opening bid starts at ten. Do I see ten? Ten, thank you sir. Ten francs still. Fifteen I am bid. Sold at fifteen francs. Your number, sir?"

The auctioneer gestured for a young man to stand forward. He began to list the description of the next item.

"665, ladies and gentleman. A paper mâché music box in the shape of a barrel organ. Attached to it is a monkey in Persian robes with cymbals. Discovered in the vaults of the theater, still in working condition."

The man displayed the music box for all to see.

"I would like to start at twenty francs," the auctioneer called out. No one raised their sign. "Fifteen I am bid?"

A middle aged woman held up her sign. She stood next to Auruo, who sat in a wheelchair.  
Another man raised his sign, bidding at twenty. Then another woman raised hers, bidding higher.  
The middle aged woman retaliated by raising her sign again, calling out, "Thirty."  
"Sold for thirty francs. Thank you, Monsieur."

The young man came forward and stood in front of the elderly man in the wheelchair. He took hold of the handle on the side and spun it. Auruo watched as the other man let go of the handle and the monkey sprang to life, closing the space between the cymbals and crashing them together as music played. It was a simple tune, its high notes ringing throughout the room.  
After a few more seconds, it came to a stop, and the monkey sat still once again. The elderly man reached up and brushed his fingers against the carved box.

"A collectors piece indeed…" he muttered to himself. The woman beside Auruo laid her hand on his shoulder as he continued to murmur to himself. "Every detail…exactly as she said." The old man laid his hand down slowly, his eyes downcast. "She often spoke of you, my friend. Your velvet lining, and your figurine of lead…Will you still play…when all the rest of us are dead?"  
The auctioneer cleared his throat. "Our next piece is one of great mystery. Perhaps some of you may recall the strange events of the Phantom of the Opera. We are told this is the very chandelier which figures in the very disaster.

"Our workshops have repaired it and had wired it for the new electric lighting. We now have a hint as to what it may have looked like." The man gestured smugly above them, where a large sheet covered the immense chandelier. Slowly the sheet was lifted.  
The auctioneer chuckled to himself and continued. "We may even frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination." He stood taller and called out, his voice echoing throughout the hollow room. "Gentleman?"

The chandelier turned on, its lights incredibly bright. Each light was a different shade of yellow, casting a beautiful glow in the room. Suddenly sparks flew and smoke began to form in the chandelier, where it floated in a clouds above it. More sparks flew, and the men and women below it screamed and shrieked in aghast.

The phantom still lived.

_**DISCLAIMER I OWN NOTHING NOT THE CHARACTERS OR THE STORY NOTHIING I JUST HAD THIS IDEA WHILE WATCHING THIS IN SCHOOL FOR A CLASS. Phew it's done. I'm sorry if there are some mistakes in the storyline as I go, I have only seen the actual opera. I haven't read the book. I CAN'T FIND IT. More is on the way. I'm also working on a SnK Christmas Carol, though I hate how I'm starting it out. I actually don't really know how to start it out. I am using this website: ,as a helping hand to writing this. Anyway rant over. SO UH YEAH.**_


	2. Chapter 2: The Phantom

**The Phantom of the Opera Snk Part 1**

**Many years earlier Hannibal**

Rico strut onto the stage, her colorful dress bobbing at each step. A gold tiara sat on her head. In her hand was a fake head in a bag. The stage was large with flights of red carpeted stairs on either side with bronze railings. Balconies hung above the stage. The rows of many red velvet seats in front of them would soon hold hundreds of people.  
"The trophy from our saviors, from our saviors!" Rico sang loud and clear, moving the head closer to her face. Her voice reached to a high note at the end of each line. She stroked the head's pale nose and went on, "From the enslaving force of Rome!"

She lifted the head high for all to see as dancers pranced onto the stage. A group of woman dancers lined up the stage and performed their routine, singing, "With feasting and dancing and song, tonight the celebration, we greet the victorious throng, returned to our salvation!"

The men then moved about, their voices clear and low. "The trumpets of Carthage resound! Hear, Romans, now and tremble. Hark to our step on the ground!"

Then all sang, "Hear the drums—Hannibal comes!"  
A tall man clad in armor stood forward. Atop his head sat a helmet with a tuft of red hair sprouting from the top. His voice was lower than the lead soprano, completely her opposite.

"Sad to return to find the land we love," the man sang, "threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp-"

Suddenly another man, the one in charge of the rehearsal, stood forward with a pile of papers. He waved his hand, signaling all to stop. "Signor Mike…. If you please: 'Rome'. Not 'Roma', we say 'Rome.'"  
"Si, si, señor, Shadis. 'Rome', is very hard for me," Mike replied, over lapping Shadis's words.

"This way, gentleman, this way," a new voice said. The owner of the voice walked in. It was Dot Pixis, the owner of the opera house. He was followed by two well-groomed men, one very tall with blond hair, the other only a little bit shorter but with brown hair. "As you can see rehearsals are under way. This year's production is new, 'Hannibal' by Chalumeau. Ladies and gentleman, perhaps you have already met and ?"

Shadis turned to Pixis. "I am sorry, Pixis. We are rehearsing. If you wouldn't mind waiting a moment…?"

Pixis nodded. "My apologies, Monsieur. Proceed, proceed."

"Thank you, Monsieur," Shadis turned back to Mike. "'Sad to return…', Signor." Mike gave him a small nod before taking a big breath and opening his mouth to begin anew. "Sad to return…"

"M. Shadis, our chief repititeur. He is quite a tyrant to the new members," explained the owner.

"…Tomorrow, we shall break the chains of Rome!  
Tonight, rejoice-your army has come home…"

Pixis motioned at Mike as all began to move about on the stage again. "Signor Mike, our principal tenor. He does play so opposite of La Rico." Erwin and Moblit nodded in response.

A tall woman with a red scarf and black short length hair strode forward, in her hand a staff. "Gentleman, please," she said. "If you would all move to one side?"  
"My apologies," the old owner said. He turned his head slightly to Erwin as the three of them moved out of the way. " . is our ballet mistress. I don't mind confessing, , but I shan't be sorry to be rid of this business. Quite an old one should I say."

Erwin spoke up. "Yes,yes. The Paris Legion Opera House is old. I've been meaning to ask, Monsieur, but why are you retiring?"

Pixis waved a hand dismissively and sniffed. "We take a particular pride in the excellence of ballet here."  
Moblit pointed a finger at a girl. She was tall with brown hair pinned up and it fell wildly around her face as she danced. She wore goggles that stuck onto her face. "Who's that girl, Dot?"

"Hmm? Oh, she is Hanji Zoe. She's a cousin of Madame Ackerman. She's a fine ballet dancer."

"You!" Ackerman growled, pointing at a short woman with strawberry blonde hair. "Petra Ral! Concentrate harder and get the steps right!"

Hanji laid her hand on Petra's arm. "Petra, what's wrong?"

"Ral? A strange name…," spoke Erwin.

"It's Italian, I believe," replied Moblit. "Any relation to the famous violinist?"

"His daughter," Pixis answered. "He worked somewhere in the outer wall for some time. He died sometime later. She always has her head in the clouds…"

The actors began to start again, singing.  
"Big welcome to Hannibal's guests-the elephants of Carthage! As guides on our conquering quest—Dido sends Hannibal's friends…!"

Rico stepped forward, grinning and sang eagerly, "Once more to my welcoming arms returns my love in splendor!"

Mike stepped forward as well. "Once more to those sweetest of charms my heart and soul surrenders…!"

All sang, 'The trumpeting elephants sound— hear, Romans, now and tremble! Hark to their step on the ground—hear the drums. Hannibal drums!"

The actors and dancers began to move about the stage, continuing what they had memorized. Every voice, tap, leap, and twirl was put into one as they assumed their last position.

Shadis clapped. "Well done everybody!"

The people burst into chatter as Pixis walked toward the group of performers. "Attention! Everybody," he started, "there have been some rumors about my retirement. They are all true. It is my great pleasure to introduce to you all the new owners of this Opera Populaire, M. Erwin Smith and M. Moblit Berner!" The old man led them to Rico as everyone clapped. "Gentleman, this is Signora Rico Brzenska, our leading soprano for many seasons."

Moblit smiled widely at her and took her hand in his. "Ah yes! I have experienced all of your roles—you are a very talented young woman."

Rico blushed slightly, pink in her cheeks. "And Signore Mike Zacharius." Dot gestured at the tall man behind Rico. Both of the new owners shook Mike's hand, only to be answered not by a pump of his hand but by the sniff of his nose. Moblit cleared his throat as the tall man sniffed him and then smiled pleasantly to himself afterwards.

"Don't mind him," Rico said. "He sniffs everyone he meets and then smiles to himself." Erwin held a strange and uncomfortable look on his face as Mike sniffed him as well. "Ah…an honor it is to meet you…"

"I do recall that Rico has quite an important part in 'Hannibal'," Moblit began. "If you do not mind, would you care giving us a preview of the show…?"

Rico grinned eagerly. She always looked for opportunities to show off. "If Shadis does not object…"

After he had been obviously eavesdropping, the brusque man nodded to Rico. She nodded back and took her position by the piano. She quickly did her warm up which consisted of making some strange cat noises, Hanji handed her a long patterned scarf that matched the soprano's dress and she began. The pianist began as well.

"Think of me, think of me fondly. When we've said goodbye… Remember me, every so often…"

Her movements were slow and delicate, just like her singing. Her notes reached high as the song progressed.

"…On that day, that not so distant day…," she sang as she moved to bring the scarf behind her. "When you are far away and free… If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me…

"Think of me…think of me—"

Suddenly the background behind the stage came crashing down and the lights flickered. The people below screamed and frantically tried to get away in their aghast. The curtains closed and opened behind them. Pixis and Shadis shouted for order.

Someone screamed,"The Phantom of the Opera! He's with us, he is a ghost!"

"He's here! Quickly!"

"The Phantom of the Opera!"

Pixis ran to Rico, who was breathing heavily and fanning herself with her hand. "Are you alright, Signora? Marco! Where is Marco?"

A young man strode into the room from the side of the stage, his eyes just as frantic as everyone else's. It was obvious he heard what had happened and rushed to get to Pixis's side. He ran a hand through his dark parted hair and fumbled with the rope he held in his hand as he spoke. "Sir, I came to inform you I was not at my post. God knows whoever was up there, but there was no one. And if it wasn't a person, then it must be the Phantom!"

Again pandemonium broke out as everyone screamed at the mere mention of his title. Hanji screamed, holding a fear stricken Petra. "He's there; The Phantom of the Opera!"

Erwin looked at her as if she were crazed. "Mademoiselle…Please."

"What is wrong with you?!" asked Moblit, incredulous. It's as if he just walked into a scream fest. "Surely, these things happen!"

Everyone fell silent at his words. Rico stepped up to Moblit, wringing her hands nervously and biting her lip, trying to keep calm. Mike hovered behind her.  
"These things happen…" she choked out.

"These _things _happen!" she repeated, throwing her scarf. Moblit flinched at the strength of her voice. "Si! These things have been happening for the past two years! These…_things_ are not normal!"

Rico breathed heavily, desperately trying to keep calm but to no success. "Well, unless these things stop happening, this thing will not happen!" she exploded, running off up the side stairs and out of the Opera House.

Mike huffed a short, "Amateurs," before following the furious woman.

Dot smiled a devilish smile and turned to the new owners. "I don't think I can assist you any longer. If you need me—actually, don't come to me at all. Solve your own problems." And with that he walked up the side stairs and out the opera house.

"Wait! Sir!" cried Moblit.

Erwin stared at the door which Rico had gone out through worriedly. "Rico will be back."

Ackerman laughed, raising and eyebrow. "You think so? I have a message from The Phantom."

Moblit groaned. "You're all mad," he muttered to himself.

Ackerman ignored his comment. "He welcomes you to his Opera House. He wishes you to leave box five empty for his use and that his salary is due."

Erwin asked,"Salary?"

"Monsieur Pixis paid him two thousand francs a month. Perhaps you can afford more, I suppose."

"Madame, who is the understudy of this role?"

"There is no understudy! This production is new."

Hanji spoke up, waving her hands wildly, "Petra Ral can sing it! She's being taught by a great teacher!"

"The dancer?" Moblit muttered.

"From who?" asked Erwin.

Petra averted his blue gaze. She tucked a stray strand behind her ear and answered, "I don't know, Monsieur."

Behind them Moblit clutched his head in frustration. "I can't believe it! A full house and we have to cancel!"

Ackerman slammed the end of her staff on the floor and all pairs of eyes turned to her. "Let her sing for you…" she said, her gaze unwavering. "She has been taught well."

Moblit and Erwin exchanged glances. Petra realized she was holding in her breath and she let it go, relaxing. "Fine," Erwin breathed.

Beside her, Hanji took hold of Petra's hand and squeezed it triumphantly. Shaking and reluctant, Petra walked over and stood by the piano, where she picked up the fallen scarf. She nodded slightly at the woman behind the piano and the music began.

"Think of me…think of me fondly… When we've said goodbye," she sang, quietly. At the last word, her voice cracked. She turned away and was about to run in embarrassment but Hanji pushed her back.

"Remember me, every so often—promise me you'll try…"

"Moblit, this is…doing nothing to my nerves," Erwin whispered over her singing.

"Don't fret, Erwin."

They watched her as she sang, moving just like Rico had, moving the scarf behind her. More people arrived, looking over the balcony as Petra continued.

"And though it's clear, though it's always been clear that this was never meant to be, if you happen to remember, stop and think of me… Think of August when trees are green—don't think about how the way things might have been. Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned…Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind!" As she went on her confidence increased and her voice became louder and clearer.

"Think of me, please say you'll think of me, whatever else you choose to do—there will never be a day when I don't think of you…!"

Petra closed her eyes, opening her arms. From the balcony a man with brown parted hair watched in surprise. "Can it be?! Can it be Petra? She might not remember me, but I remember her. It has so long since we've seen; you were so young and innocent," he muttered to himself. "Brava…! Brava!" The man grinned and watched in amazement.

"Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade—they have their season and so do we… But please, promise me that sometimes you will think of me…!"  
Petra stood there, arms open and chest heaving. The group exploded with applause. Everyone swarmed her, patting her back and showering her in compliments.

—-

Petra stood in her dressing room doorway, watching the ballet dancers stretch. Her dressing room was right next to where the dancers would usually practice. It was small, with only a closet, small cot, and a vanity. The doors on the other side of the room burst open, making Petra jump. Hanji rushed inside, late and energetic as always.

Petra watched as her friend ran at her, incredibly fast and Petra took a step back as she realized Hanji was not going to slow down. "PETRA!" she screamed as she tackled the strawberry blonde in a hug.

"Gah! Hanji!" Petra wheezed. Hanji let go of Petra and helped her up. She took her hands in her own and grinned down at her friend. "Petra! Where have you been all of this time?"

Petra raised an eyebrow. "I've been here this whole time."

"No, that's not what I mean. Why have you hid such a beautiful voice? You were perfect out there!"

"Yes, you did well, indeed," said a new voice behind them. They both turned to look at Ackerman, who stood with her dark gaze on Petra. "He will be pleased…And as for you!" she said turning to the dancers. "You were a disgrace tonight. Such ronds de jambe! Such temps de cuisse! We rehearse—now!"

Petra watched as all the dancers except her friend moved to the side of the room. _**"Brava….," **_cooed a male voice. The man's voice had an erie glow to it, and it sounded very familiar to her. Petra whipped her head around the room, trying to figure out where the voice came from. _**"…Brava…."**_

It seemed as if no one else heard it. _**"…Bravissima…"**_

The tall brunette turned to her and asked, "Petra who is this new teacher, the one who had taught you to sing so beautifully?"

Petra, still in a small shock as to what had just happened, smiled warily at her friend. "My father once spoke of an angel—The Angel of Music," she answered. "I used to dream he would appear before me. I feel like I can…sense him in this room, like he's in here with me." Her thoughts were filled again with the voice that had called to her softly. _**Brava…Brava…Bravissima… **_It was as if he was hiding, and something inside of her she knew he would follow her everywhere, lurking in the shadows.

"I had watched you in the shadows as you sang," Hanji said, eyes downcast. "I heard your voice in the darkness. But the words aren't yours." She looked back into Petra's eyes, a hint of confusion in them.

Petra smiled reassuringly. "It's my Angel of Music, my guide and guardian." _Lend me your glory,_ she added to herself. Petra suddenly felt scared.

"He's with me...even now…," she whimpered.

Hanji took her friends hand. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Your hands are cold…"

Petra squeezed Hanji's hand. "…All around me…" She looked up at her, and she realized Petra's hazel eyes were widened in fear and just how white her face was.

"Petra, your face is white," Hanji whispered, pushing up her glasses.

"It frightens me…"

"Don't be frightened…"

"Hanji Zoe!" Ackerman said, pounding her staff on the floor. "Are you a dancer? Then rehearse!" Hanji gave Petra and apologetic look as she scurried off, leaving the room with the other dancers.

The room fell silent once more except for the tap or scuff of a ballet shoe hitting the floor. Ackerman held out a note to Petra, who took it.

"My dear, they asked me to give you this," she explained before leaving. Petra looked down at the note. "Red scarf…," she read,"…the attic…Little Lamb."

Suddenly she heard laughter and people emerging into the practice room. Petra looked out her open door and watched as the new owners walking into the practice room. They had two woman with them, their arms wrapped around the men's waist. Another young man stood in front of them.

Moblit exclaimed, "A tour de force! There is no other way to describe it!" The woman beside him laughed, covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

Erwin sighed. "What a relief. Not a single refund at all."  
One of the woman muttered, "Greedy." Moblit turned to face Erwin. "I think we make quite a discovery is Miss Ral."

Erwin nodded. "Yes." The man in front of them ran a hand through his brown parted hair. Petra squinted at the man. He looked oddly familiar. "Men," he said, "I prefer to make this visit alone."

Petra turned away from the five, sat down at the chair in front of the vanity, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She began to inspect her short hair that was curled and stayed to make a short crown around her head. She heard the man walk and stand in the doorway of her room. She pretended to not see him as she added more lipstick to her mouth.

"Petra Ral, where is your scarf?" the mysterious man asked.

Something inside her head clicked into place. She turned slowly to look at the man. "Pardon?" She knew what he was about to say, but she wanted to make sure for herself if this really was…

"It seemed just yesterday that I had to fetch it from the sleazy dog that had snatched it from your very hands…"

Petra's eyes widened and she grinned, "Oh, Auruo it is you!" He smiled warmly and walked over and stood behind her.

"Oh, Auruo. How long has it been?"

"Many years. I believe the last we saw of each other was when you were fourteen and left to go to that dancing school."

"Father playing the violin…"

"While you danced and I banged on the drums in beat…"

Petra stared at Auruo in the mirror. He looked much older than the last time she had seen him of course. His brown hair was grown more than it was when he was younger; back then he had it cut to his scalp. His shoulders were broader and his back was larger. He was a grown man indeed. His dark brown eyes stared back at her as well, doing the same as she was. They both wanted to see how the person in front of them changed over the years.

"Do you remember one of the stories we read to each other?" Auruo asked her.

"'No, what I love best, Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head…'" remembered Petra

She reached up and touched Auruo's hand that lay on her shoulder. "'When the Angel of Music sings songs in my head…," they both sang in unison.

"Father has spoken about an angel," Petra said. "He told me, 'When I am in heaven my child, I will send to you the Angel of Music. Auruo, father is dead and I have been visited by the Angel of Music!"

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "Of course you have. Now, let's go to supper!"

"No, Auruo, I can't, the Angel of Music is very strict—"

"Nonsense. I shall be here in a few minutes to fetch you. Be ready." And with that he walked out of the dressing room, ignoring her protests, and out the other door. "Wait!" she called, but he had already left.

She turned back to the mirror burrowed her head in her hands. "Things have changed, Aurou!"

"_**Insolent boy!" **_cried a new voice. It was the same one she had heard earlier, and she suddenly knew who it belonged to. _**"The slave of fashion, basking in your glory!"**_

Petra stood abruptly, the chair behind her clattering to the floor. She ran out her room and into the empty practice room. The voice raged on, _**"Ignorant fool!"**_

She looked about the room, eyebrows furrowing. "My angel—I hear you. If you speak I will listen. Forgive me, my angel."

The voice lost its harshness and became softer and more considerate. _**"Child, its fine, you should know me. Look at your face in the mirror…"**_

Petra turned to look back into the doorway of her dressing room. She stared at her reflection from afar as the voice suddenly sang, _**"I am there inside!"**_

She watched as a new face appeared on the mirror beside her face. A male's face smiled shyly back at her. The left side of his face was covered by a white mask that only covered half of his nose and some of his mouth. His lips were discolored, as well as some of the skin that peeked out from under the mask. His dark black hair was slicked back, and only a few strands fell onto his forehead, making little bangs over his eyes. He wore a black fedora and a dark patterns cloak.

She stared at the man's face. She instantly recognized him as her tutor. "Angel of Music! Hide no longer—come to me, my angel!" she cried.

His smile widened on the mirror and he suddenly disappeared. _**"Come to me, Angel of Music…" **_she heard him sing behind her. The wall of the room slide open, revealing a bright light that shone through and made the small figure inside look dark and shadowed. Dark mist spilled out of the doorway as her Angel stepped out, holding out a hand. _**"Sing with me, Angel of Music…"**_ he continued.

Petra stared at his pale hand and she touched it. It was soft despite the callouses she saw on them_. _He wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled her up. _**"Come to me, Angel of Music…."**_

Her Angel ushered her through, where he fixed the fedora on his head and followed her inside. The wall lodged back into space with a hollow thud.

"_**Sing with me, Angel of Music…"**_

Her angel was the Phantom.

_**PHEW IT'S DONE. I have spent the last few days working on this and I find it terrible. I can't find a right way to write this but whatever. What are you going to do? I'm too lazy to fix mistakes and shit. I own nothing. Just the writing. I don't even own the lyrics in this. It's all the phantom of the opera and some snk. Using this website as help. And yes the phantom is Levi. WARNING: THERE WILL BE NO RIVETRA JUST I GUESS SNIPPETS BUT NOPE IM FOLLOWING THF OPERA STORYLINE THERE WILL BE AURETRA (what ever the ship name is). I forgot to put the website I'm using as help so its there.**_


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